Here it is: the end of the world.
I am standing in front of it, and it looks like shit.
It is Kasimir Malevich’s “Black Square”, it hangs at the New Tretyakov national gallery in Moscow, and it is dirty, tired, bleak, so unimpressive it is embarrassing to see.
And yet, that is the end.
This can well be seen as the point where art enters the other world zone, leaving our poor miserable world of bodies behind. This art is spiritual, declares Malevich, and I am ready to believe him, not on faith, but because at this point faith is the only thing that can carry me as a viewer. To appreciate it – I think while standing in front of the painting – I need to believe that what my mind brings me when looking at this painting, it brings thanks to the painting. (And that it’s worth the trip). Any thought, then, is a belief.
The painting is all cracked, it seems like it lived through terror, two wars and a revolution (it did).

For a while, I wonder what disturbs me in all this. I take Malevich’s painting as an ever-returning challenge. We are challenged to accept this or go beyond this. We are challenged to deal with the out-of-this-worldliness of aesthetic creation. Supreme it is.

I thought all this quite disappointing, a concept I would have rather kept as a concept, a story, rather than seeing it translated into a poor somewhat-black square. But what about the painting? Doesn’t it have anything to say? The cracks are most probably the result of the artist being in a hurry (it seems he put the black layer over the white one before the latter dried out). The strokes, we can clearly see, are uneven, quick, there is nothing uniform about this, and even the outside lines of the square are uneven (he is said to have painted it free hand, and very free it was). It is not a good square. Or, no: it is not the square we are told it is. It is a square that tells the history of its creation, the story of the tension, the energy, the impatience. It is a clear window into something that happened, into a performance of painting and a moment of life. In that sense, the painting appears better than we ever could have dreamed. It goes back to this world. The painting outdoes the painter – through unveiling something more than what he had planned.
Inside of the cracks, if we watch carefuly, we see another color, it is not black or white, and at moments it seems like it’s not grey either. It varies from spot to spot, it is reddish, brownish, somewhere close to the color of flesh. It is the color of revenge. The revenge of the painting.

Make one.
Tom Polo created the 2009 B.E.S.T. Contemporary Art Prize for Painting contest. The criteria were typical of the art contests we know. Except for one small point, which stated:
eligible entrants are artists born on the 1st February, 1985 and named as ‘Tommaso Polo’ on their birth certificates.
The exhibition of the finalists (guess who?) is taking place at the MOP gallery in Sydney.
The winning work, by – you guessed it – Tom Polo, is called Continuous One Liners (Young People Today).Possibly many of my dear readers are thinking, we’ve had similar ideas, but they were too childish to execute. Maybe the most seductive part of tricksters is that by putting to life the silliness we only imagine (or think we imagined), they at once make it more serious and much more ridiculous.
You can find an interview with the artist at The Art Life.
Why B.E.S.T.? Because Everybody Still Tries.

Apparently, the National Railway Workers installed a handrail on Richard Serra’s sculpture in Duedingen, Switzerland. Why would anyone want the autonomy of the artist?

(via)

Teaser
Does writing the theory of relativity from memory make one a math genius?
Let us distinguish between outstanding memory capabilities and phenomenon of art, as we do between crafting the rook and playing chess…

…”Stephen Wiltshire, ma main man”

Do the innate absolute criteria of fine art judge Stephen Wiltshire’s art, or is it only the jealousy of one private subjective ego?
Stephen Wiltshire became famous after appearing in some TV show where he presented his remarkable photographic memory abilities. First, I would like to honestly state, that I am truly empathic and happy for his success and have nothing in person against him. He really seems like a cute guy. What I am more concerned about is the definition of art in regards to Stepen Wiltshire’s abilities. I’ll break this down to art’s three basic components, as I perceive them.

The three aspects of fine art

Formation

Stephen Wiltshire’s art scales from basic sketching lessons to advanced architectural drawings at the most. Some of his works are no more than elementary car design sketches or urban views. No innovation of technique and no originality in the perception of reality and it’s translation to art. Just plain sketching you might see scattered abundantly around the internet.
Have you ever seen an architect or a car designer selling their sketches as works of art for prices ranging up to 13,000 pounds? I suppose not.

Content

Plain urban views or different motive transportations. No depths of issues, no message, no meaning, no purpose; just some “pretty things” to gaze at.

Awareness

Having evaluated the first two ingredients of fine art and concluded that they sum up to nothing in Stephen Wiltshire’s case, we are left with the most important one of all.
How does an artist approach a work of art? Well, I assume that there are numerous subtle nuances which define each and every artist of the past, present or future, but the basic grid is the same: you approach art with deep awareness.

What is the motive, the purpose, the essence, the meaning? What is it that which you want to say and what atmosphere will help you convey that message? How will you create that atmosphere and how will the compositional architecture, color scheme, shape formations, light, textures and perspectives influence the atmosphere you are trying to create?

The deeper the awareness the deeper the message will be and the more profound the essence is. So also, the more subtle the philosophy and the more complex the theoretical aspects behind the art work, that much more spiritual awareness and conscious self-awareness must be respectively present in order to realize that work of art.

Let’s see…

On the other hand, when all you want is to copy something from one place to another – with no emphasis on the technique and style, with no intent of purposeful content, with no awareness to the derivative criteria of creation – all you need is the hand-eye coordination awareness, hence the basic instinctual human consciousness.

So far as the context of art is concerned, there should be absolutely no meaning to whether the copying is from another picture using a translucent paper or directly from nature, or as in Stephen Wiltshire’s case using the memory as the copying source. I mean, does writing the theory of relativity from memory make you a math genius?

…”So, you…you’re the Rain Man?”

Being the artist an autistic-savant automatically boosted the value of his art, simply because there has never been in the recorded history of art another one like him. People might have said to themselves: “Well, there is nothing unique about his art, in neither venue, but hey, he’s autistic and he remembers stuff… Oh hey, and it’s just like that guy in that movie… I mean, wow!”

Well-greased marketing also helped to obscure from the art establishment and the general public the fact that actually, so far as art and artistic standards are concerned, there is nothing here to make so much fuss about. Had any other non-autistic artist presented such art to any respected gallery or museum in the world, I think that he would have gotten the cold shoulder.

Plainly saying, in this day and age art is mostly a gimmick, which without the appropriate marketing will not see the light of day, not to mention fortune and fame.

findigart.com

Created by findigart On 07/30/09 At 03:17 PM

Back in April 2009 a reader of my Blogs for AbsoluteArts posted the following comment:
“On the www.albertosughi.com website there is a very powerful painting called “Ruling class”. Would love to participate in a discussion on that piece.” Since then I committed myself to holding such a discussion and today I will try to maintain that promise. Possibly in order to understand The Ruling Class (“La Classe Dirigente, Oil on Canvas, 165×140cm, 1965) we need to place and read it in the context of another group of works also painted between 1964 and 1965. So let’s start by examining the Historic Moment (L’Ora Storica), a work I painted at the end of 1964 and that clearly is a prelude to The Ruling Class itself.

This is a triptych, 165 by 420 centimetres, one of the paintings that most reflect if not the world of Bacon, at least Bacon’s style, clawing at the canvas, his very open way of painting first on unprepared canvas, with a great sweep of background colouring, that had a strong influence on me. I felt most attracted to three painters: Degas, Munch and Bacon. In fact, I then felt an affinity between them, even if secretly, not from the thematic point of view, but as a way of confronting the canvas, a great affinity between Degas and Bacon.

In fact, Bacon was influenced by Sickert, who was influenced by Degas, and had a certain way of painting nudes that could also allude to the scabrous style of Munch. A painter who has no problems with poetics, because he is sure of always being himself, does not have any difficulty in stealing from others what can serve for his own paintings. I mean that painting derives from painting, but is continually modified when it meets an artist who is not contaminated by the poetics of someone else, but appropriates methods, techniques, ways of giving strength to his own imagination. This is a painting, a triptych. It has Bacon’s style, but does not represent anything that Bacon’s work represents. It is a painting inspired by the criticism of the Italian political world and the refusal of the ‘historic compromise’. We are afraid of governments, afraid that someone will stand at a black pulpit or on a black throne. When I painted the black of the desk I was even reminded of Malevitch’s black square. And then there is a figure without a face getting up, in the act of taking off his jacket in readiness for command. If we want to digress to consider the subject-matter, I could have stolen the title from Goya, ‘The sleep of reason generates monsters’.

Immediately after the Triptych I worked at a group of new paintings: Man at the window 1964 , Man with a dog 1965 and The Ruling Class itself.

In this group of paintings there is, in comparison with my previous work, the addition of a geometrization above the figures or imprisoning them, locking them in, as in a cage, or giving them greater prominence, as in Man at the window, who is looking out from the inside. Even in Man with a dog there are two lines, almost pointing to the door out of which the master is coming, and the dog goes towards him. Above all in The ruling class we see some geometrical shapes overhanging the figures. There is a geometrization that was previously absent and that is very clear during this period. In commenting on these paintings I can say that every time that I have faced the problem of The Ruling Class – even the Triptych faced that problem – I have always spoken of it as if the reason could be found there – the root of the discomfort of contemporary man – almost as if really the job of the managerial classes is to make life easier for everybody. Whoever has the job of redistributing wealth and power, of making the rules, is rather, in effect, a figure who doesn’t have anything to say to others, but only to himself.

Today we speak of a political caste. Every time that I have represented anything concerning politics, I have always spoken as if it is a caste. And it is strange that even in a painting that was painted much later, in the eighties, but that is connected with these themes, called Roman Sunset, we see politicians bowing, kissing a naked woman who represents corruption, representing everything that a powerful Rome manages in inconceivable ways. As if to say that those who represent us represent nothing more than themselves, and that we are therefore alone in dealing with something that will never arrive, like the man, like men standing at a window and waiting for something, a person or an event, that will never come.

Once the painter and novelist Dino Buzzati, speaking of my painting, said that it reminded him of Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett, men waiting for something that will never happen. He was perhaps thinking of his The Desert of the Tartars, but, in fact, I do have an idea that Man cannot find something that he knows could exist, but that is hidden who knows where. After all, if I wanted to describe these characters, I would say that they propose the figure of a man who would like to wait and believe, but who has lost the faith for believing.

Alberto Sughi
For more info on Alberto Sughi see. www.albertosughi.com

Created by Alberto Sughi On 07/09/09 At 11:22 AM

Phil and Kat Taylor are husband and wife art collectors. They live just outside Toronto, Canada which is a cool art city. One day, out of the blue, Phil emailed me and we started chatting about our common interest. I thought that he would make a great interview subject. He has a forthright, down to earth, yet very polite air about him. To me, this makes him “Clearly Canadian.” Read on and you’ll see.

MICHAEL: Hi Phil. Thanks for talking with me. You and your wife Kat (Katherine) are collectors. What got you into collecting? How did you begin?

PHIL: Well, my parents were both professional actors in Canada, so I grew up in an arts saturated environment – literature, music, acting, and of course visual arts. My early passion was photography since I could not draw very well, but I was always drawn to the fine arts of painting and sculpting. As a young adult I started to buy prints of popular master works though I always kept an eye on the contemporary scene as well. But it took many years to figure out what I really liked. We are bombarded with so many opinions and views on art that it can be very confusing. And when you start to buy original art, you really want to be sure of yourself, because it usually costs quite a bit more to buy good originals, even from unknown artists. And about 10 years ago I bought my first quality original by a fine Quebec artist named Louise Dandurand. The art dealer knew it was my first buy and could see I was nervous. When we completed the deal he said “I know it’s a bit scary buying your first original, but it gets easier.” He was right. I married my wife a few years after that and found that we have similar taste in art, and we have been buying new works from living artists ever since.

MICHAEL: Phil, I’m so glad that you got over your fear about how did Kat become a collector? Kat, are you there?

KAT: Hi Mike, this is Kat. Phil does most of the heavy lifting when it comes to our art … but here is a bit about myself. I am a professional singer/actor, and I have been active in the arts generally throughout my life. During my undergrad degrees at Queen’s University in Kingston Ontario. I studied in Europe … “Music History and Performance Practice”. One summer the course was offered in Venice and the next it was in Vienna. During this time I saw a tremendous number of masterpieces. Certainly I never imagined that I would live in a ‘gallery’ of original art! Phil’s enthusiasm has made this possible for me.
MICHAEL: Phil, it seems that your enthusiasm has conquered your early fear of art. I think that fear is the number one thing that keeps people from even visiting art galleries let alone becoming art collectors. Much of society has been brainwashed into believing that art is so far above their comprehension that they dare not aspire. What do you think?

PHIL: I agree with you Michael, but it’s more than just fear. Many people are turned off by art today because they simply don’t like what they see. I am speaking of course about much of the art created since the beginning of the 20th century. And it certainly doesn’t help that the larger art establishment swoons over work that leaves the average person scratching their head. And I have to confess right up front that I am pretty average too. The vast majority of art I see today seems amateurish or uninteresting. The truth is that I have to force myself to go into galleries. I know that most of what I see will not interest me in the slightest, but I do it because I never know when and where I might find a gem. It doesn’t surprise me at all that many people don’t even make an effort. But for me its like a treasure hunt.
MICHAEL: Art is a treasure hunt for me as well. The last time that I went gallery hopping in Chelsea (New York City), I was stunned by some of the crap that I saw! You don’t have to be an “expert” to recognize junk. Fortunately, Chelsea has more than 200 galleries, so there was also some truly fantastic work to see. What really bothers me is when it appears that the artist/curator isn’t interested in trying to engage or inspire us. Not long ago, I visited a new contemporary art museum that staged a BIG exhibition, but I felt that the curators intentionally made it the opposite of what had been promoted. I think it was their way of saying, “We’re beyond caring what you think because we’ll never allow you into our club!” Such a disservice.
PHIL: Well it’s hard to know exactly what many curators, gallery owners, art critics and artists themselves, are really thinking about the average person. But sometimes they let their guard down. I read an interview with a gallery owner who said she only shows art she really hates. I wonder if she tells prospective buyers in her gallery how much she hates the work she is trying to sell them? Fact is I stopped caring what the art establishment was saying or doing, years ago. I keep my eye on the ball – the ball being new art. I make my own judgments and keep moving forward. And you hit the nail on the head. I look for art that inspires and engages me.

MICHAEL: So, what kind of art do you and Kat collect? How would you describe your collection? Is there a common thread?

PHIL; Well Michael, I thought you would never ask. Our taste is quite eclectic in that we do not look for a particular style or theme. Most of the work is two dimensional and all of it is by living, working artists. They are mostly Canadian, but we have also bought pieces from American, French, and Chinese artists. There are four essential elements we consider when buying art, and in no particular order they are:

1. Technical mastery by the artist in his chosen medium. As you know the importance of mastery has taken a beating in the last century or so. The message is all important now, but there are still artists who strive for the kind of excellence that we saw during the Renaissance for example. And mastery takes years, so most of our artists are in their 40s and 50s. We keep an eye on promising young artists,

….

Created by Michael Corbin On 07/06/09 At 12:31 PM

Four years have gone by and it’s getting harder to keep time from slipping by. Is it age-related or just the fact that I’ve been keeping busy? I really don’t give it much thought, it’s just a fact I’m confronted with now that I’ve packed up my studio and shipped my things off to a new destination where I’ll start all over again.

In the past year, though, keeping busy had something to do with it. One of the reasons I decided to stop posting on aa was because there was too much I needed to tend to, and the lure of the ethereal world was sneakily keeping me away from the real one. But I also felt that a break from blogging and commenting might actually be a good healthy thing. Too many things kept popping up on my screen asking me to join and I needed to distance myself from my computer ‘routine’ to be able to focus on the concrete things I wanted to achieve at the studio. What’s the point of being on 8 different sites if you can’t get anything worthwhile completed in the real world to talk about?

So let me tell you about some of the few things I was able to help out with apart from my own production and input at OD?

In this past year OD – oficina do desenho – came a long way. From being a small independent art school where Rui Aço gathered his students and I helped out as tutor and developed my own projects as artist in residence we have become an association and have since started to engage our community in a more pro-active way.

The snowball had been picking up momentum but it was really only after we presented our collective project at the Cascais Cultural Centre [Dec 08 to Feb 09] that we started to realise the impact OD seemed to be having and that we became fully aware of the opportunities and responsibilities we could expect in the coming years.

The project 3 Men on a Boat in which Rui and I teamed up with Fernando Vidal – before he distanced himself for professional reasons – was not a commercial exhibition but nevertheless it was one of the most successful projects I ever took part in. The reward was not monetary; it was much more valuable than that. I think I can safely say that it enhanced our presence as artists and as trustworthy partners within our community. It opened doors for future exhibition possibilities and collaborations with the local authorities both as consultants and as active creative participants in cultural activities. And, because it went on for over two months it exposed us to a greater audience, as a matter of fact it was one of the least publicized yet most visited exhibitions at the cultural centre ever.

The staff at the Centre were tremendous, they fell in love with the project and went beyond the call of duty to spread the contagion to visitors coming in to see the galleries hosting more publicized artists. Maybe this had to do with the fact that Rui and I were present on location most of the time. Indeed, to me it felt like home for those twelve weeks. Personally I didn’t so much see this as an occasion to dump my work, no matter how beautifully presented, but as a privileged opportunity to deepen the much needed connections with curators and the people in charge.

I also invited a few selected people over to lunch at the centre’s restaurant and gave tours, maybe not so much spoken but just to be there with the public lest they wanted to ask questions, and though we invariably spoke about other things it was always somehow linked to the philosophy behind the work and what we aim to achieve with the school.

Local schools, from kindergarten to 12th graders, organized field-trips to see the show and ask us questions… and, sometimes, play with the dangling steel treads of my boat, which, I’ll admit, must have been a temptation for any child [and I caught a glimpse of the odd grown-up having a go!], but it was so inspiring to be caught up in their enthusiasm that it made it impossible to ask them not to touch. I can’t even begin to tell you how rewarding it was to see my installation and video through the eyes of those children. No amount of money can equal that.

Once that was over I slowly entered into a new mode – different tempo, different focus. In January my wife was told that she would be reassigned to a new posting and so when we took down the show my boat came straight back home. I continued to paint and oversee the work of the students at OD up until the end of May but the students couldn’t help but notice how the paintings, art materials and unfinished canvases kept disappearing until there was nothing left but the original concrete space I had added a little colour to over the three years I was there.

I’ll miss those exchanges with the students, I’ll miss Rui’s insight and companionship, our painting styles may seem diametrically opposed but we share much in common and I learnt a great deal from him while I was there. It was good while it lasted, and I’ll always be connected to the school in some capacity or other, I am, after all, one of the founders, but I’ve become more and more absorbed with the move and have instinctively crept into that buffer-zone I know inside of me where I am able to cope with the loss and prepare for the new stuff.

In May, with me half-here-half-there and not being much help, OD organised an event that brought together commerce and art in an attempt to boost people’s morale and get them back on the streets looking at the shops and at the art. The original idea was for 30 shops to allow 30 artists to redo their shop windows with art for two weeks and hand out a prize for the best collaboration [artists and shop owners were supposed to work together on this], but things soon got out of our hands when word spread and we ended up with sixty shops… and minus 30 artists. Ana Grácio and Rita Cardim solved things smoothly, amazingly and in record time, rounding up the remaining artists and getting some of the school’s own students, as well as other art schools to join in the ride. Also, the work they had as coordinators, getting artists and shop owners to get along peacefully while at the same time getting all the visuals ready and out on the streets [banners, leaflets with maps, red carpets for the important guests at the cocktail, etc.] was an important part of the event’s success, contributing greatly to putting OD on the local map.

I won’t go into the details here but it was a tremendous success, with a formal opening by the Mayor and the cultural and legal advisors from the Town Hall and the Cascais Cultural Centre taking their time to see each and every shop, talking to the artists and shop owners [when initially it had been said that there would only be time for a brief overview of the main square area]. From here on I think many things are possible, many doors have opened, both for OD and for each individual helping out to make it what we all wish it to become. And even if in the years to come I won’t be participating as an active participant I still look forward to telling you more about its progress as Rui keeps me informed, because I now think of it as one of my babies as well.

As for me, soon, I hope, I’ll be getting back to the business of setting up a new studio and looking for new projects – starting from scratch… in Japan.

Created by Jose Freitas Cruz On 07/03/09 At 11:11 AM

As photographer of details of architecture, I am conditioned to observe my surroundings carefully. I notice buildings, but I hone in on the line of a corner; the angle of a gable; a fashioned decorative vine on a wrought iron gate and the stone carvings on a façade. Fine tuning a bit more, I visually thrive on the textures used for building: grainy granite, polished marble, satiny wood, rough brick, smooth cold iron. These elements create an environment that promotes creativity for me. And above all the light that permeates the scene sets the tone of my photography. Rembrandt ’s art and the light of his world are the reasons that I recently went to Amsterdam. To know and to understand an artist ’s work on an intimate level, it is essential to see the light with which the artist worked. I believe that the light of Amsterdam defined Rembrandt ’s paintings, drawings, etchings. The way that the master saw his subjects, gave him the framework for the art he created.

Amazingly, in a world that is evolving with split second timing, Amsterdam welcomes the future to blend smoothly with the past. It is quite possible to imagine that you are walking along the canals with Rembrandt in the 1600 ’s. The city is criss-crossed with canals that reflect the soft misty light back into the sky. In late May, when I visited the city, the huge puffy clouds of Rembrandt ’s landscapes were just as low to earth as in his paintings. It seemed as if I could pull off a piece of cloud like cotton candy if I stretched out my arm. The marvelous billows of grays, whites, ochres, yellows, blues and many other colors were dotted with openings, big and small, to the soft sky beyond. Through these portals light drifted in soft shafts. Rays that lit fragments of a building, a tree or a face. The delicate way that the light illuminates in Amsterdam creates a mood of fluidity: seamless values.

When the sky turned darker in the late afternoon, I could see the glow that glorified so many of Rembrandt ’s subjects. The setting sun through the mist that was usually present allowed beams of radiant light to highlight with a luminosity for which the master is famous. The golden shafts of light were slightly blurred by the watery atmosphere to create a soft, ethereal radiance that was both brilliant and subtle. The night sky also presented a much more diffused dark than I have experienced. The celestial bodies, when visible, seemed to have a filmy edge with a sparkling central area that gave the sky a surreal enchantment. Perhaps the same magic that suffuses the nightscapes Rembrandt prolifically painted.

On one extraordinary day, my son Joe, who had generously gifted me with the wonderful trip, and I took an excursion to Ghent and Bruges in the Flemish region of Belgium. Throughout the drive (furthest four hours outside of Amsterdam) there are farmlands and grazing cows, and other farm animals. Occasionally we spotted a windmill. The scenery was so much like being in a Rembrandt work that the experience may have surpassed seeing the master ’s paintings and drawings in the Rijksmuseum. The day was sunny, but the light was, again, as in Amsterdam, filtered, soft, delicate. The pastoral landscape was filled with water trenches that collect the abundant rainfall and irrigate the farms. Enormous clouds hung low and echoed the blues, greens and pale yellows of the countryside. Remarkable light.

Our journey was filled with marvelous sights and delightful chance encounters with people we met along the way. Always, I felt the presence of Rembrandt: walking by the canals, sitting in a charming courtyard or square, traversing the countryside and seeing the light that he saw. Although four hundred years have passed since Rembrandt lived and created art in Amsterdam, he is very much alive there today.

Created by Ellen Fisch On 06/29/09 At 04:43 PM

I enjoy looking through artist studios so much that I decided to make it a semi-regular thing. So if you have a few photos of your art studio or workspace and would like to share them, please send them to me.

Make sure the images are under 1mb in size as they don’t have to be MASSIVE and my inbox clogs up. Include a short paragraph about your space if you wish and your website address if you have one. Artist studios from all creative people are welcome and it doesn’t have to be a beautiful working space.. it just has to work for you.

Here’s the studios so far (listed alphabetically so that my studio is conveniently placed at the top..lol)

Dion Archibald’s Painting Studio – Working space of an Australian artist.
Jessica Burko’s Artist Studio – Mixed media artist based in Boston, MA, USA.
Gail Sauter’s Painting Studio – American painter working in Maine, USA.

I’ll add to the list as artists send them in (I have three other studios to add at the moment)

Combine air, space, track lighting, concrete, glass, metal, a cool king-size bed to rest your sleepy head and you’re totally there.

You’ve got what may or may not be your typical hip hotel. However, as I write these oh so urbane words, I’m not in your run of the mill sleek abode. I’m taking up pricy space in this totally hip place.
21C.
My trip here actually began a couple of years ago when I first heard about it. “When I finally decide to visit Louisville for another art trip, I going to stay there,” I thought to myself.

But of course, time and expenses or lack thereof intervened and my arrival was much delayed … but here I am slumping over the keyboard in a thick groove as Marvin Gaye croons, “What’s Goin’ On” through the speakers piped in overhead.

I’m sitting in what can only be described as an art gallery because that’s exactly what it is … an art gallery. I’m on the basement floor below and adjacent to the main lobby of the 21C Museum Hotel. Within my line of sight are lookers and gawkers who are pointing and chatting and oohing and aahing. Like me, they’re here for the night or perhaps for a just glimpse of what all the talk is about.

Well, I can’t exactly say it’s the talk of the town because I’m no townie, but it seems that nearly everyone in the art world has heard of this hot spot. Finally, someone dreamed of putting a true, literally down-to-earth art gallery in a hotel … or did they build a hotel around an art gallery? Pick your passion, but both are working like a charm on this art lover. Why wouldn’t it? This is the first of my art trips in which art and lodging didn’t just run parallel or perpendicular, they’re literally hand in hand. The hotel IS the art and the art IS the hotel.

About thirty feet away from me on the opposite wall, I’m drooling over three, long horizontal Mikhael Subotzky (South African) archival pigment photo prints depicting prison situations. They’re “Cell 25,” “Reception” and “Cell 508b,” all studies from inside Voorberg and Pollsmoor Prisons (2004).

In the adjacent room are fourteen of Kara Walker’s refreshingly politically-incorrect framed lithographs. Up until now, I had only seen her work in museums and at the big art fairs, but gazing at them here in a real life setting makes them more accessible.

There are four nice-sized galleries off the main gallery where I’m now sitting. It’s a soaring, brick, steel beamed, white-walled, art loft. Just what the art doctor ordered for inquisitive travelers.

In my time here, visitors have come up and down and criss-crossed the space, marching on the sanctity of my art lodging dream. Their chit-chat is inconsequential, but precisely the point. This is what art SHOULD do. It should force dialogue, however shallow or profound and that chat should happen within the confines of a unique hotel. They just don’t make ‘em quite like this.

PAUSE

As I pause, I’m looking upward at a gigantic, full-bodied, digital print of a mainly nude woman who looks like Bjork from afar, but I don’t think it is. All I know is while the piped-in music plays Stevie Wonder’s, “Boogie On A Reggae Woman,” I’m smiling at this raven-haired, alabaster beauty with her arms outstretched and her taut breasts in full view with a hint of linen loincloth hugging her lovely hips. She’s standing on a white background, perhaps somewhat Christ-like … or is she mocking Christ? That wouldn’t be very nice. Either way, artist Sukran Moral (Turkish) has made what he calls “Artista” (1994) perfection. Is it Bjork? The way I’m feeling now, it doesn’t matter. She’s gorgeous nonetheless.
The long and short of it is you don’t get this everyday in your run of the mill hip hotel. This is art as art should be seen. I want to take each and every one of these works up to my uber-hip room and then out the door as I depart.

But alas, no such deed will I do. I’ll just remember this place and this space and think that finally someone has done contemporary art the justice it’s due. They’ve made 7th & Main the intersection of lodging and art. There’s art on every floor and in almost every nook and cranny … installation pieces too.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention that moments before I checked in, I saw a couple of guys decked out in cream colored suits. I didn’t think much about it until I headed up to my room on the fourth floor (401) and the elevator doors opened. Waiting for the other elevator across the hall was a blonde bride looking as lovely and as modern as could be. With that, a light-bulb went on over my head like the artful lights installed in the elevator ceiling.

“Oh! You must be the bride!” I said. “Yes, Hi!” she replied. “You look lovely. Congratulations,” I said. “Thanks!” she replied, beaming as only young brides can beam. Hmm. Maybe she was merely a model at a photo shoot.

In any event, here’s the real point. Should you hold a wedding or any other special bash in a hip, art hotel? You bet your ass you should. Each one gives the other greater purpose.

Assuming it was a true wedding event, the bride and groom probably paid a pretty penny for 21C. I wonder if they got to ride away in that red, bejeweled 21C limousine I saw out front. Even the limo is art!

It’s like I always say. When you bring art into the picture, it’s a kick ass scene … or perhaps I should be a bit more urbane and just say … it’s a no brainer.

MICHAEL CORBIN IS AN AVID ART COLLECTOR AND AUTHOR OF THE MULTI AWARD-WINNING BOOK, “THE ART OF EVERYDAY JOE: A COLLECTOR’S JOURNAL.” CHECK OUT HIS WEBSITE AT WWW.ARTBOOKGUY.COM

Created by Michael Corbin On 06/22/09 At 11:16 AM